Young

The door had been left ajar. When I sat up on the table, I saw my little brother staring from the hallway. He didn’t dare come in.

At eighteen I thought I’d seen everything, until my cousin pulled the blinds, put on that movie, and started touching herself without taking her eyes off me.

I turned on the phone, cracked the curtains open just enough, and waited for his shadow to cross the window while I stayed naked in front of the mirror.

I heard it through the ajar door: the laborer was fucking the secretary in the storeroom. That afternoon I went back to the office for more than documents.

We were having a perfect day when she came to sit on my lap. I never imagined that one touch, one curiosity, and one mistake of mine would erase the line between father and daughter.

I started the diary because nothing was happening in my life and closed it because everything began to happen. Between signed hospital shifts and a boy who knew how to wait, I was never the same.

I thought nothing could be worse than letting him drive me home. Until he shut the apartment door and I put my bag on the couch.

When the downpour left us soaked, she ordered me to take off my wet clothes and started undressing without shame. I tried to hide the tremble in my hands.

I told Mateo to stop, that my sister was sleeping three meters away, but he kept going in silence. I never imagined she’d open that door right then.

When I saw her get off the bus with the pink backpack over her shoulder, I understood that she had already made up her mind—and that I was only going to play my part.

We’d been talking on WhatsApp for almost a year without ever meeting. That afternoon, in the hotel room, she sat down in front of me and started taking off her clothes.

We had been sharing a roof for months when, one afternoon, she looked up from her computer, saw my shoulders tense, and said something I’ll never forget: “Come on, take a while to relax.”

By my fifties, I thought nothing could shake me anymore. Then she walked into my son’s room with her hair tied up and a smile I wasn’t expecting.

The towel barely covered me when I knocked on my neighbor’s door on the seventh floor. He agreed to help me open my apartment only if I let the last thing I had on fall away.

I dressed to blow my boyfriend’s mind. The one who opened the door was his older brother, and his eyes ran over me before he even said hello.

I wanted to play a prank by lighting the candles in front of the pool house. When we pushed the door open, no one was laughing: my son was against the cabinet, and his friend’s father wouldn’t stop.

When the first one approached the car, my wife already had her skirt raised and her blouse open. What came next, I watched from an armchair, drink in hand, hardly breathing.

I went to the bathroom on a night with no electricity, convinced I was alone in the house. A phone light lit up the kitchen and I understood why the two of them had been acting so strange.

At twenty, my world was diapers and silence. Then my boss left me a note with the coffee and started looking at me like I was another woman.

Five cousins, one friend, and a secluded sauna. That send-off was going to start in a jacuzzi with two mouths taking turns on my cock and end at dawn.